


i'll be obscene, you'll be the rest

by wintyfreshh



Series: fall into me [1]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anxiety, Consent Play, Crying, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Friends With Benefits, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, Nonbinary Character, Other, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Smoking, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators, are they friends? idk but there certainly are benefits, i really have no excuse for this the mechs just make me feel like a wild chimpanzee, is there really no tag for pussy spanking bc thats what it is, or what constitutes aftercare for jonny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25348246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintyfreshh/pseuds/wintyfreshh
Summary: Lyfrassir just needs to get out of their head.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville/Lyfrassir Edda
Series: fall into me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893151
Comments: 17
Kudos: 163





	i'll be obscene, you'll be the rest

**Author's Note:**

> have i listened to the bifrost incident four times today? yes. do i know fuck all about actual mechs lore? also yes. i strongly considered publishing this anonymously but fuck it, im committing to it. lyf is nonbinary, i use the words cunt, clit, folds, and hole for them. jonny is trans, and i use cock, dick, and slit for him. pls let me know if i missed any tags!! title from oleander by mother mother.

Lyfrassir is, understandably, an anxious person. Recent events, in combination with the fact that they now live with the most stressful people in the universe, mean ‘thrumming with anxiety’ is pretty much their baseline state. Sometimes though, it all rises to a peak, and Lyfrassir feels the tension like lead in their veins, the dull, panicked weight of it anchoring them in their thoughts.

They need to get out of their head. The usual methods (journaling, drinking, literally banging their head against the wall) are doing little to alleviate the weighty lump in their chest. Lyf realizes they may have to actually leave their bedroom, find one of the Mechs to help do… something. They aren’t sure what. 

With a groan they clamber out of their bed. It’s almost impossible for them to say where any of their shipmates are right now, but at this point, they’re ready to emotionally unload on the first one they come across. Hopefully they can catch Ashes or Marius, someone who won’t mind listening to them vent, or at the very least won’t actively try to murder them for attempting any sort of emotional intimacy. Jonny would have his guns out before they could even try, Lyf thinks as they make their way to the common area.

 _Jonny_. Huh. Now there’s a thought. The first mate would almost certainly shoot them on the spot if they tried to cry on his shoulder, but his penchant for single-minded violence could have… other applications. The Mechs made no secret of their relationships with each other, and while Lyf had never taken part before, there seemed a good chance Jonny would be amenable to fucking the anxiety out of them. 

Lyf actually stops in their tracks at the thought, a small shiver skittering up their spine, so their body is definitely on board with the idea. They run a unconscious hand through their curls, giving them a little tug as they make a quick mental list of Jonny’s favourite haunts. 

The kitchen is a bust, and they do actually find Marius lounging in the common area, tuning his violin. Lyf entertains the idea of continuing the search on their own so Marius won’t suss out what they’re doing, but they kind of really wanna get fucked, so they decide to just bite the bullet. Marius looks up as they clear their throat.

“Hey Marius. You, uh, know where Jonny is?” 

Marius cocks an eyebrow at them in return, but mercifully asks no questions. “Think he’s in his room.” Shit. Going to Jonny in his room seemed a hell of a lot more intimidating than just running into him in the kitchen. Sort of humiliating to walk right into the lion’s den.

“Thanks.” Lyf turns to leave in what they hope is a casual way, and they make it through the doorway before Marius adds, “Have fun!” Lyf feels their face heat, but they ignore the doctor in favour of _definitely not speedwalking_ down the hall towards Jonny’s quarters.

His door is slightly ajar when they reach it, and they can hear Jonny moving around inside. Lyf takes a steeling breath, attempting to quell both their nervousness and the budding arousal they feel starting to bloom low in their belly. They rap two short knocks on the doorframe before they can talk themselves out of it. There’s no reply, but after a moment Lyf can hear Jonny coming to the door. 

It swings open, spilling a soft yellow glow into the hall where Lyf stands. Jonny gives them a quick once over, then waits without a word, hint of a grin playing on his lips. Lyf realizes that Jonny is gonna make them talk first, the absolute bastard, and they hadn’t actually thought far enough ahead to plan what they were going to say. Shit.

“Um.” They start. Jonny raises his eyebrows. _Well,_ Lyf thinks, _fuck it, I guess._ “I’m -- I’ve been. Really anxious lately? And I need to get out of my head.” Their voice wavers slightly as they hope, against all likelihood, that Jonny will cut them some slack.

Instead, Jonny replies, arch and smug already, “And what does that have to do with me?”

Lyf flounders a bit, before finally biting out, “I just. Shit, I just -- need you to fuck me til I can’t think straight? Please.” The words tumble out on top of one another. A savage grin takes Jonny’s face, and he pulls Lyf into his room by the collar. 

Lyf stumbles slightly, surprised, but allows Jonny to corral them towards the bed. He shoves them down to sit on it with a firm hand. 

“Fuck you til you can’t think straight? Think I can manage that,” He purrs, looming over Lyf. He looks... really nice in the soft yellow light. Lyf eagerly reaches out a hand towards him, but Jonny catches their wrist. “Hold on. Safeword first.”

“Will I need it?” Lyf asks hoarsely, feeling a thrill at Jonny’s grip on their arm. 

Jonny’s smile widens. He leans further into Lyf’s space. “I get the feeling you like to struggle a bit. Need to make sure you’re playing.”

Lyf flushes at this, but acquiesces. “Um, red is fine.”

That seems to be all that was holding Jonny back, because he kisses Lyf hard, sliding a hand into their dark curls. His other hand stays wrapped around Lyf’s wrist. Lyf gasps when Jonny tugs at their hair, hard, and Jonny huffs out a laugh and deepens the kiss. 

Jonny nips harshly at their bottom lip before pulling back. He grins at Lyf’s already disheveled state, then begins to manhandle them up onto the bed. Lyf does their best to help, clambering back until their head rests on the pillows.

Jonny is on them immediately, throwing a leg over to straddle their hips and leaning down to suck a few bruises along Lyf’s throat, deft hands going to undo their shirt. Lyf groans, already feeling that tangled ball of stress starting to unravel. They bring their shaking hands up to clutch at Jonny’s shoulders, squirming under his touch. 

“Mm, _fuck_ , what’s the plan?” They pant as Jonny’s mouth trails down their chest.

“How many times do you think you can come before you can’t talk?” Jonny asks, cloying, between scrapes of teeth.

Lyf can only whine softly at the hypothetical. Jonny laughs again, finally shoving Lyf’s shirt off their shoulders before starting on their trousers. “I bet I can get at least four out of you,” he continues. “Do you think you’ll cry?” His voice is saccharine and mocking. Lyf grinds up against him in response, and takes a second to congratulate themself on what an excellent plan this is turning out to be. 

Jonny scoots back to tug at their waistband, so they lift their hips to let Jonny drag their trousers and pants off. He stops to yank his own shirt over his head before letting his hands settle on Lyf’s bent knees. The heat of his gaze is intense, and Lyf actually has to look away when Jonny pushes their legs apart, eyes sharp and hungry. He skims his hands down their thighs, feather-light, and Lyf’s eyes flutter closed as he spreads their cunt open.

“None of that. Look at me,” Jonny growls, pressing a mean thumb to their clit. Lyf gasps at the sudden sting of pleasure, eyes flying open. 

“Sorry, sorry,” they answer breathlessly. Jonny relents, begins to skim his fingers through their folds, occasionally moving to rub at their clit again. His gentle touch is maddening, but he shows no sign of speeding up, even as Lyf begins to squirm. They’re so wet already, fuck, and Jonny has barely touched them.

“Jonny, please, more,” they pant, bucking up against his hand. Jonny’s eyes shine with amusement at Lyf’s desperation, fingers still working them far too gently. 

“You need something in your cunt, is that it?” He taunts. Lyf nods frantically, already too far gone to be embarrassed. “You want more, I’ll give you more,” Jonny warns lowly, then pushes two fingers into them without preamble. Lyf cries out at the sudden intrusion, but the stretch and sting melds with a sugary wave of pleasure as Jonny begins to curl his fingers, pumping them slow and deep. 

“Fucking soaked already,” Jonny purrs. Lyf flushes, squirms some more, feeling needy and restless under his predatory gaze.

“Jonny, please,” they whine. They’re careful not to cover their eyes as they bring trembling hands up to their flushed face.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you,” Jonny taunts, but he picks up the pace considerably, thrusting his fingers in and out with messy, obscene sounds that have Lyf writhing in desperation. His thumb rubs tight circles on Lyf’s clit. 

“More, more,” they beg. Jonny adds a third finger, angles at a spot that makes stars explode under Lyf’s skin. “Oh, _fuck_ , Jonny, please make me come, please,” they babble, thrashing through the electric waves of pleasure. 

Jonny throws his other arm across Lyf’s hips, pinning them to the mattress. His fingers fuck into Lyf fast and deep and so, so good and they feel themself reaching their peak.

“Come for me, Lyf,” he demands, vicious grin on his face. They’re nowhere near strong enough to buck off his iron grip, entirely at his mercy as Jonny pushes them through a shuddering climax. 

They collapse boneless against the pillows, allowing their eyes to fall shut as they bask in the simmering pleasure. Jonny’s fingers are still working, gentler now, and it feels amazing, like sparks glinting up their spine. They feel Jonny’s weight shift slightly, hear him rummaging through the bedside table, but they’re not curious enough to put in the effort of opening their eyes to see what he’s doing.

The question is answered anyway after a moment, when Jonny slides his fingers out with a filthy sound, and glides them up to Lyf’s clit. He spreads their folds, exposing their clit to the cool air, and that gets Lyf’s attention. 

They summon the energy to push up to their forearms in time to see Jonny press a small vibrator against their clit. He circles it slowly, eyeing Lyf. 

“Fuck,” is all they say.

Jonny hums. “Just getting started, aren’t we?” He skims a gentle hand up Lyf’s chest, stopping in a loose curl around their throat. Their heart pounds. The anticipation must be plain on their face, because Jonny laughs cruelly. “Slut. You’ll take whatever I give you, won’t you?” Lyf can only nod mutely, biting their lip. 

Instead, because Jonny is a prick - something Lyf sort of lost track of in the middle of coming - he simply moves his hand to Lyf’s chest and shoves them back down to the mattress. Lyf falls flat with a grunt. Before they can protest, though, Jonny flicks the vibrator to life and pushes it hard against their clit. 

Lyf cries out. Jonny’s turned the vibrator on _high_ , and they’re still sensitive, and the sensation is fucking white-hot, like molten lava. They try to wriggle away but Jonny is still pinning them flat.

“ _Fuck_ , Jonny, it’s too --” Their words break off in a high whine. The walls of their cunt flutter and clench but Jonny simply maintains a constant pressure. Lyf clutches at their hair helplessly, but after another moment they reach some sort of precipice, and the overstimulation begins to melt into burnt sugar pleasure. 

Jonny begins to circle Lyf’s clit with the toy, and they choke out a moan. “Fuck, look at you, pussy all pink and slick and blooming for me.”

Lyf makes a wild noise at Jonny’s words, hurtling towards their second orgasm faster than they thought possible. Every nerve is alight in a shivering ecstasy. Jonny continues to spill filth but Lyf is too far gone to hear it, catches _pretty_ and _slut_ before they’re coming again with a shout.

They tense and quiver then slump back into the pillows as Jonny pulls the vibrator away, tossing it onto the mattress. Lyf only has a second to catch their breath before he flips them over onto their stomach, arranging them until their knees are under them, pushing their hips into the air. The position leaves Lyf exposed, cunt still twitching from their orgasm. 

“Jonny, christ,” they start, voice slightly muffled from where their face is pressed into their arms. Jonny strokes their thighs, pushes their legs apart. Lyf feels a curl of syrupy humiliation at the position.

“Seems like you’re still thinking straight,” Jonny says, still running firm hands up and down Lyf’s thighs. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” 

One hand moves to Lyf’s cunt, slides through the folds gently. Even that sends Lyf writhing, Jonny’s touch like a live wire against their sensitive core. This gets a chuckle from Jonny, and he pulls his hand back. 

Before Lyf can recover Jonny brings his hand down in a sharp smack against their cunt. Lyf comes, instantly, messily, back arching as they wail and thrash. The sensation is like neon, flooding their brain and melting away their ability to do anything but _feel_ . Tears prick in their eyes. “ _Fuck_ , oh fuck, fuck.”

Jonny, for his part, laughs. “Aw, d’you think you’ll come every time?” He coos. Lyf trembles, only manages a breathless whine in response.

Jonny brings gentle fingers back to Lyf’s folds, soothing the sting for a moment. Lyf is ready for it when he lands another slap to their cunt. They bite their lip hard, still writhing and moaning but holding it together, if just barely. 

The inside of their head is spun sugar at this point, and all they can do is let the waves of sensation roll through them. Jonny hits them a third time. They shake and sob, feeling dangerously close to the edge, tears threatening to spill over. 

Jonny lets out a huff of what sounds like annoyance, as if he’s put out by Lyf’s restraint. The fourth slap is _hard_ , punctuated with a mean pinch to their clit, finally sending them stumbling over the edge. They let out a noise that they will absolutely deny was a squeal when he gives their cunt another slap before their orgasm is even through. Tears spill over as they tremble, caught in the liquid gold of pain and pleasure and _too much_.

“There we are,” Jonny praises gleefully.

They go easily when Jonny pushes them onto their back. Lyf is pretty sure they’ll never move again. They’re still crying weakly as Jonny presses a searing kiss to their lips, looking haughty and victorious, the bastard. 

Jonny starts a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses down Lyf’s throat, their chest, their stomach, nipping at their skin every so often until he reaches where they have their legs shut protectively. He parts their thighs with an absolutely devious look in his eyes. Lyf whimpers, too worn out to keep their legs closed.

“Jonny, no, please. Too much,” they mumble pleadingly. Every nerve feels bright and raw.

Jonny huffs out another laugh, settling between Lyf’s thighs. Lyf can feel the warmth of his breath on their folds as he answers. “Now, now,” he chides cheerfully. “I think I can get another one out of you. And truthfully, it doesn’t seem like you’re in much of a position to argue.”

With that Jonny laves his tongue through their folds gently, sucking and nipping his way up to Lyf’s clit where he swirls his tongue softly. 

“Too much, fuck --” they whine, a new wave of tears escaping. The heat of Jonny’s mouth zings up their spine, spilling through them like champagne fizz. It’s _so much_ and they push weakly at his shoulders, try to wriggle away. Jonny doesn’t slow his steady rhythm at all, just catches Lyf’s wrists and holds them to their sides. 

He keeps moving his mouth gently, alternating between probing at their hole and swiping his tongue up to their clit until Lyf shivers through one last small, sobbing orgasm. Jonny sucks a hot kiss right at their center before moving back to his knees.

Lyf pulls in a long shuddering breath, going limp against Jonny’s bed. They let their eyes fall closed as their breathing evens out and the tears begin to slow. Jonny skims his nails across their flank in a slow, inscrutable pattern. 

Their eyes are glassy when they crack them open to peer down at Jonny, sniffling. He still looks wolfish, and Lyf has no doubt that he would push them through another five orgasms if provoked, but he seems somewhat placated. 

“Thanks,” they murmur. “That was… perfect, I --. Thanks.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get sentimental.” Jonny rolls his eyes, but Lyf can tell he’s preening under their praise. He raises an eyebrow at them. “My turn, yeah?” 

“Mm, yeah,” Lyf mumbles, but they make no move, hoping Jonny will get the idea. Jonny huffs but makes quick work of his trousers, then shuffles forward until his cock is above Lyf’s face. Lyf is too spent to put any real technique into it, just licks Jonny’s slit and sucks at his dick while Jonny takes what he needs.

It doesn’t take long before his thighs tense around Lyf’s head, and they lick sloppily at the gush of fluid. Lyf lets themself float in and out of focus as Jonny dismounts and sets about cleaning up. They feel the swipe of a warm rag between their thighs, across their chin. Jonny, settling against the pillows next to them, tugging them up til their head rests against his chest. 

Lyf doesn’t open their eyes until they hear the flick of a lighter. They tilt their head up to see Jonny taking a long drag from a cigarette. He passes it down to them and they follow suit. They smoke in warm silence for a bit, and if Jonny strokes Lyf’s hair gently, well, they won’t tell anyone about it.

**Author's Note:**

> >:)


End file.
